Crazy Talk in Venezuela

 

I haven’t slept at night for over a week. Films, fancy cocktail parties, gay men everywhere and house music, dancing. A beautiful candlelit house sits at the top of a hill a professor with two dogs and a big kitchen inside. Candles because of Venezuela’s rolling power outages. This happened the other day when I was riding the elevator in Ninoska’s building; there was nothing to do but sit inside the pitch black box alone and wait. We’ve been hanging out with Miss Universe 2009 a few days now, we see her at everything. Music falling from the sky.

-Some old crap I dug up. I go on and on about how drunk I got, it’s stupid, so I’ll spare you. Did anyone else see On The Road? How much worse could it have been? I finished my book and will actually publish that zine I mentioned that one time especially since I’m moving away from my stoner household and in with my family on the coast because it’s free and I’ve convinced myself it will magically disable this procrastination mode I’m in.

Actually, I’ve never written so much in my life, but I convince myself I’m lame if I don’t put in ten hours a day, seven days a week #glamorouslifeofthetriverwriter #myopia

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